


I'll Be Your Whatever (I'll Be Your Forever)

by notsodarling



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsodarling/pseuds/notsodarling
Summary: One random day, Michael gets an idea. Alex goes along with it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nielrian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nielrian/gifts).



> This is an indeterminable time in the future, where everyone has some semblance of peace and there are no murder mysteries to solve or serial killer aliens to find. This fic exists because of a hilarious chat with nielrian that started because of a gifset from 1x09 and what a disaster of a dancer Michael Guerin would be at his own wedding (except there is no wedding dancing in this because I suck).
> 
> And yes, this idea existed before 1x11 so… you know, forget that reveal about Noah being the 4th alien ever happening.
> 
> Fic title from "your whatever" by lovelytheband
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Michael is lounging on the couch in the cabin, his right arm behind his head, legs haphazardly spread out over the cushions. From where he’s laying, he can see Alex moving around the kitchen, putting away groceries in a sickenly  _ domestic _ way that Michael had once never thought he would ever get to experience. Shifting his gaze, he looks down at the scarred flesh of his left hand, allowing himself to think of how it all started, and how far they’ve come since then.

“Alex?”

He can feel the smile on his own face as Alex turns just enough to meet Michael’s gaze, and Michael knows, whether it’s fifty years from now, or later tonight, he’s never going to ever tire of getting to see Alex like this. His hair is wild from moments earlier when Michael had pressed him up again the counter to kiss him after arriving home. It’s taken some time for them to get here, and it hasn’t been easy - Michael doesn’t like to think about some of their conversations, and generally avoids reminding himself of the times they’ve yelled at each other, but they’re working on them and being open and honest with one another, and he knows that counts for something - that it counts for  _ everything _ .

The smile Alex sends back his way is enough to set a plan in motion in Michael’s mind. He pushes himself up off the couch, and strides into the kitchen, crowding Alex up against the counter for the second time, his front pressed up against Alex’s back, hands on Alex’s hips. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to the back of Alex’s head, just savoring being in Alex’s presence, because it really is one of the only things on this planet that makes him  _ happy _ .

“Let’s get married.”

Alex shifts at the words, spinning around, and Michael lets him so they’re face to face.

“Right now?”

Michael shrugs, because  _ why not?  _ causing Alex to let out a laugh, letting his head drop forward onto Michael’s shoulder, fingers gripping the flesh of Michael’s arms, as if he needs to hold on to ground himself just as Michael does. He hears the calming breath Alex releases, something Michael has learned helps him focus, something learned long ago during his physical therapy and countless sessions learning to handle the PTSD left over from his injury and his time in the Middle East.

Alex lifts his head, pulling back just far enough so that he can stare Michael in the eye, and Michael can’t help himself, he leans forward and presses their lips together. It’s as if, when allowed to be this close to Alex, he’s unable to stop himself from kissing Alex. They’re just two puzzle pieces, slotting together to complete each other, and Michael doesn’t know, has never really figured it out, how to say no to Alex. 

He knows he’s come close - so many times over the years as Alex worked through his own demons, and Michael was always there, waiting for him. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how many times Alex walked away, Michael couldn’t say  _ no _ to Alex. He’s spent too many nights trying to make sense of it, trying to understand their connection, the pull they have toward each other, and why neither of them seem able to fully stay away, and he’s failed every time, electing to give Alex the space he needs instead, always believing,  _ knowing _ , that they’ll find their way back to each other in the end.

Pulling back from Alex just enough to look him in the eyes again, Michael gently slides his hands up Alex’s arms to cup his face, letting the tips of his fingers dig into the hair at the base of Alex’s neck, grounding him. He watches Alex close his eyes, melting into the feeling, and Michael knows he will never tire of seeing that look of  _ content _ on Alex's face.

“We can go down to the courthouse-”

“You’re serious,” Alex replies, eyes opening, and Michael wants to live in the way Alex looks at him forever.

It’s not that Michael has ever hated the planet, and it’s inhabitants - it’s that they never did anything good for him. He’s always been relieved that Max and Isobel had an easier life, that they were adopted, they were loved and cared for. But why should he stay in a place that has never wanted him? 

The concept of  _ home _ has never existed for him, not really. Or at least, not until he stole a guitar from the high school music room, and fell in love with a boy with black nail polish and a septum piercing who offered him a place to go on a cold night. Sometimes it feels as though they’ve been through literal hell and back to get where they are, but in the end they still ended up here,  _ together _ , and Michael thinks that’s really all that matters.

“You know we don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Michael interrupts, pressing their lips together again. And again. And again.

“We need witnesses,” Alex replies finally, hands on Michael’s chest to keep them apart long enough to get a sentence out. “You know Max and Isobel won’t be happy-”

“Do  _ not _ call them.” Michael shakes his head at the suggestion, because getting Isobel involved with mean a conversation about why they’re getting married at the courthouse on a random Friday instead of letting her plan some elegant affair that no matter how beautifully executed would never be something either Michael or Alex would ever want.

“What about Kyle?”

Michael levels him with a look, but gives in. He’s seen the change in Kyle, especially in how he’s reached out and helped Alex, even extending an olive branch of friendship to try and make up for the way he’d acted in high school. If Alex wants to mend those bridges, Michael isn’t going to stand in the way.

“I’ll call Jenna. She’ll love being included for once,” Michael decides, thinking back to the months working to figure out not only what was wrong with Isobel, but also hunting down an alien serial killer.

“You just want to piss off Max, don’t you?”

Michael doesn’t dignify that with a reply, just leans in once more to kiss Alex, before letting go, and leaving Alex inclined against the counter.  He keeps his conversation with Jenna short, certain he hears a bit of confusion in her voice, but that’s to be expected considering he doesn’t tell her the  _ why _ of his request to meet him at the courthouse in a half hour. He does, however, ask her not to tell Max if,  _ and only if _ , she happens to see him in the next thirty minutes.

He finds Alex is in the bedroom, changing into a different shirt than the one he was wearing, and Michael stands in the doorway watching him. When Alex catches him, there's a soft smile on his face, and something warm blossoms in Michael's chest that they're here, together, doing this.

“Left Kyle a message.”

Michael nods, taking in the haphazard way Alex's hair is sticking up from changing, and decides that's how he wants him to look when they're standing in front of the justice of the peace. There's a certain  _ giddiness _ to how Michael feels, and he knows, without even asking, that Alex feels it too. They're different people than they were when they started this  _ whatever _ at seventeen, but Michael has always been able to read Alex, even when Alex preferred to ignore his own feelings. 

Lost in his thoughts, Michael misses the second shirt that's laid out on the bed - a button up in a soft turquoise color - that Alex motions towards with just a look.

Michael doesn't object, and Alex doesn't ask, the request and the acquiescence silently passing between them. Michael yanks his t-shirt over his head, and tosses it in the direction of the laundry basket near the closet, before swiping the shirt and pushing his arms into the sleeves. In an instant, Alex is standing in front of him, maneuvering just enough so that he can work the buttons closed. Michael lets him, feeling the ghost of Alex's fingers through the fabric of the shirt as he does them up, leaving the top three open. But Michael barely notices because he can't stop staring at Alex, caught up in his orbit, still not processing that they're really going to do this, that Alex  _ agreed _ at all.

They've never talked about getting married, not really. Isobel and Noah have had some rough patches, especially in regards to the alien aspect, but Michael had watched as Noah had stood by Isobel, had refused to not be included, and realized that feeling in his chest from watching them was want - he  _ wanted _ that. And there's really only ever been one person that's come to mind when he gets that feeling, and sometimes Michael still can't believe it. He knows, without a doubt, that if he could tell his 13 year old self, who had dealt with meth heads and alcoholics and religious fundamentalists, that one day he would find a reason to  _ stay _ , he would. To let himself know that there is someone worth it all, even for the boy who was always left behind.

Alex runs his hands through Michael's curls, pushing them back, pulling them forward, until he's satisfied with where they've landed, a smile on his face as he leans forward and kisses Michael. 

“Let's go,” Alex whispers against his lips, and it takes a certain amount of willpower for Michael to not grab Alex, push him onto the bed and say  _ screw it _ to this plan.

But they can get lost in each other between the sheets of their bed later. Because there will always be a later for them.

They take Michael's truck, and Michael allows himself to get lost in the sheer amount of memories he has that involve both this truck and Alex. And Alex is leaning against the passenger door, a smile on his face, his head tilted just enough to watch Michael out of the corner of his eye, like he can't look away either. 

Jenna is waiting inside the courthouse when they arrive, Noah sitting in the chair next to her - and that's a surprise Michael hadn't considered.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Noah? What are you doing here?” Alex finds his voice first, because Michael is still trying to work out why Jenna brought Noah with her  _ at all _ , his internal panic rising at the idea that Isobel might be somewhere waiting to yell at him.

“Jenna said you called. Thought you might need a lawyer,” Noah replies, sounding confused as he eyes first, Michael's shirt, then glances over at Alex, who shrugs before making his way over to the clerk.

“I thought you called because you did something stupid and needed a lawyer!” Jenna yells, furious and looking like she's ready to call Max just to spite him. “Especially if I'm not supposed to tell Max!”

Michael can't help but just smile then, because hey, now they've got both their witnesses, and none of them are Valenti or Max or Isobel.

“So what are we doing here?” Noah asks, eyes still darting between Michael and Alex. “Since apparently you don't need a lawyer?”

It's then that Alex beckons Michael over to the clerk, and he's gotta sign some forms for the marriage certificate, leaving both Jenna and Noah standing several feet away bewildered still as to what is going on, but Michael really can't find it in himself to care. They're not gonna be mad anyway when they figure it out, he knows.

Michael feels like he's on cloud nine, as he leans against the wall and watches Alex finish up with the clerk. Alex has his polite smile on, the one that even strangers are drawn to, and Michael loves that about him, that no matter who he's talking to or interacting with, Alex always makes the other person feel like they've got his full attention. When Alex sneaks a glance over at Michael, it's as if there's a complete change in his eyes, and on his face, as if he needs to look at Michael, like he’s drawn in the same way. It’s these kind of looks that make Michael wonder if Alex can read his mind - an impossibility, he knows, and why he’d landed on  _ cosmic _ all those years ago to describe this feeling, this connection, between them.

It takes until they're walking into the room with the justice of the peace for Noah to exclaim, “Isobel is gonna kill you!” under his breath, and Michael can't find it in himself to care, because the clerk is speaking, and Alex's hands are in his, and Michael can feel Alex gently caressing the damaged skin of his left hand, delicately running his thumb over the mangled bones that were never allowed to heal properly, and all Michael can do is stare back at Alex, get lost in his eyes. He responds with an exasperated  _ fuck yes I do _ when he realizes he has to verbally agree to marry Alex because honestly they're here and he has never  _ wanted _ something more in his life, and Alex is rolling his eyes but his lips are upturned into the smile that is meant only for Michael, and Michael can't wait any longer, pressing forward, dropping Alex's hands to cup his face instead and pull Alex into him for a kiss, so desperate to feel Alex even though it's been less than an hour since the last time they kissed.

He doesn't pull away immediately, leans his forehead against Alex's, breathing him in, before whispering, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alex replies, and Michael can't see his face but he knows he's smiling, because Michael is smiling. It's peaceful and it's perfect, and it's a moment that Michael knows he's never going to forget because it's  _ theirs _ .

He remembers belatedly, about the ring he’d tucked into the pocket of his jeans before leaving the cabin earlier. It’s a simple silver thing, the hammered metal reflecting indecipherable patterns across it in the light. Something he’d made years ago during a low point while Alex was in Iraq, when Michael couldn’t stop thinking about him, and how much he’d probably fucked up the best thing in his life for good. He’d made the ring in the shop at the junkyard in a fit of loneliness and desperation, a truly absurd amount of alcohol and acetone coursing through his body. He had kept it ever since, unable to ever get rid of the damn thing, but also knowing that it would probably never see the finger of the person it was meant for.

Michael’s glad he was wrong about that, as he holds Alex’s hand and slides the ring on.

“Where’d you-”

Michael shakes his head. It’s not a story for here and now - he’ll tell Alex later.

It fits perfectly, and Michael can’t help but bring Alex’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to where the ring sits perfectly on his finger.

Alex lets his hand drop out of Michael’s grasp, and reaches into the pocket of the jacket he’s wearing - pulling out a tiny black box that he pops open, revealing a ring. It’s silver, but unlike the one Michael had just slid on his finger, it’s smooth and the inside has a shimmering iridescence to it - the same kind of colors that appear in Michael’s alien biology, and reminds him of the pieces of the console from long ago that had been a catalyst to getting them  _ here _ .

“How long you had that?” Michael jokes, because how can he not.

Alex ignores him, reaching into the box, and removing the ring - it’s attached to a chain, and Michael immediately thinks to his left hand, tears forming in his eyes at the thought that he can’t wear a ring for Alex. But, it seems, Alex has thought ahead - always. With a small smile, he watches Alex lift it out of the box, and lets Alex slide the chain over his head, letting the ring rest against his sternum - the weight feels like a familiar, welcoming presence. 

There's some more paperwork, and he lets Alex handle most of it, because as good as he is about keeping track of things, right now his ability to think doesn't stretch much further than Alex. Jenna and Noah sign as witnesses, and then Jenna is snapping pictures on her phone, and Michael knows she's gonna send them off to Max and god-knows-who-else as soon as they leave the courthouse, but he really can't find it in himself to care.

“Okay well, I'm tired of seeing you two like this,” Jenna waves her hand wildly at them, with a smile on her face. “So I'm gonna go find Maria and have a much needed drink. Congrats.”

“Thank you,” Alex replies first, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. “Give us a five minute head start before you send those pictures off to Max?”

“No problem.” Michael is only half-listening, most of his attention still only on Alex, as Jenna gently pats his cheek before turning around toward the courthouse entrance, leaving Noah standing there, still catching up with how he managed to get roped into this today.

“Isobel is gonna freak.”

Alex laughs, and Michael watches as he reaches out to shake Noah’s hand. “We’ll let you deal with that.”

When it’s just the two of them, Michael stretches out, and takes Alex’s hand, lacing their fingers together. They walk back to the truck hand in hand, only letting go long enough to climb into the cab. Michael doesn’t  _ feel _ like anything is different, and yet everything is. It doesn’t surprise him when Alex slides across the bench and presses himself into Michael’s side, needing to eliminate any space between them.

At the first chance he gets, a red light on the way out of town, Michael glances over at Alex, and finds him staring down at the ring on his finger. It’s not admiration, exactly, that’s written all over his face - more like curiosity, like he’s trying to understand the why and how associated with it. Michael lets him be, the story isn’t something he wants to get into while he’s driving, and he also wants to hear Alex’s own tale about the ring hanging from the chain around his own neck.

Michael gets an idea, and makes a turn that signals to Alex they’re not headed back to the cabin at all.

“Where are we going?”

Michael just smiles, and turns to watch the road.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise? I always wanted to write more to this, and there miiiiight be a third part being planned in my head as well. <3

It doesn’t take long for Alex to realize where they’re going, and the destination doesn’t surprise him one bit when Michael pulls the truck into an empty space outside the UFO Emporium. It’s been years since Alex has stepped foot inside, especially since he skipped the more recent gala, having obviously spent way too much time there in high school and at the time, he didn’t want the reminders that place gave him.

Their reconciliation, their coming together into _this_ , has been long and drawn out, but Alex isn’t sure there’s anything he’d change now that they’re _here_ . Since coming back to Roswell, and learning about just _what_ and _who_ Michael Guerin is, Alex has replayed dozens of their conversations and interactions in his head, looking for details he’d missed, wondering just how bad he may have inadvertently _hurt_ Michael with his words.

Alex doesn’t like to think of the shed as their beginning - one specific memory coloring his ability to think about the rest, and he’s not about to step foot onto his father’s property until the man is six feet under. But the UFO Emporium, even if he _shouldn’t_ like the place he worked part-time just to have money for the things he wanted - clothes, makeup, jewelry - it’s also where Michael kissed him for the first time. And that is nothing but a happy memory Alex has held onto, a memory that he clung to during his time in the Middle East, and during the harder times when he was back in Roswell.

“You’re a sap, Guerin.”

He loves remembering that day - of Michael bounding up to the ticket window, all nervous energy, fingers tapping on the countertop, and asking to talk. Alex had been so sure, so heartbroken from when he’d tried to kiss Michael just days earlier, that Michael was there to break his heart, to let him down for good.

Michael stealing his guitar from the music room felt like the beginning of something that Alex had been terrified to admit he wanted. He’d been watching, observing, Michael Guerin for weeks before then, had heard the rumors about how he was homeless and living out of his truck. Unfortunately, it was common knowledge that Michael had constantly been shuffled around the foster care system, that his only real family seemed to be the Evans twins. But seeing the evidence of those rumors, of realizing they were _true_ , had made Alex want to help - so he’d done the only thing he could, and offered up his safe space, the one place he had carved out for himself when things got bad with his dad.

The memory plays so easily in his mind, complete with his own feelings that he was about to be rejected, to be told that Alex was _nice_ but Michael wasn’t like that, didn’t like him like _that_ . He hadn’t, not in a million years, expected Michael to take one look at him, step forward, reaching for his face, and kiss him. Everything about the moment had felt _right_ in a way nothing in Alex’s life ever had before.

Alex stands off to the side now, watching Michael interact with the poor kid working the ticket booth, before they’re walking inside, Alex’s hand tangled in Michael’s, and Alex is taken aback by how _different_ everything looks. It looks much more like a proper museum now, instead of the kitschy tourist trap of his youth. He lets Michael lead him into one of the rooms, knows they all probably have themes, but Alex is too concerned with watching Michael to care too much. There are fake aliens, and paper mache UFOs, and news articles in frames, and it feels so _familiar._

“Did I ever tell you why I came to find you that day?” Michael asks, pulling Alex’s hand up to his chest, holding it just above his heart.

Alex shakes his head, because he hasn’t, and Alex hasn’t asked. Talking about that day means talking about what happened after, and what eventually led to Alex joining the Air Force, and they’ve always been good at _avoiding_ the bigger topics. And Alex has always been satisfied just in the fact that Michael did come find him, did kiss him, did settle that uneasiness in his chest, let him feel _wanted_ and _loved_ and _cherished_.

“Max,” Michael continues, laughing, and Alex can’t help but frown. He knows Michael and Max were closer in high school, that their falling out revolved around Rosa’s death. “He was all hopeful about asking out Liz, talking about moments worth fighting for, and I already knew.”

Alex feels his breath catch, because he gets it now, like a missing piece is slotting into place. He leans forward, closing the space between them, and presses their lips together, letting his free hand move up to rest on Michael’s neck, letting his fingers slide into Michael’s hair, wrapping around the curls he loves and adores so much.

“I can’t believe our first kiss was here,” Alex whispers with a smile, leaning his forehead against Michael’s, and just _savoring_ the moment before remembering they’re in a public place, and pulling back. He’s known for quite some time, how ridiculous it is that their first kiss was in the UFO Emporium, that he’d _literally_ kissed an alien in a museum dedicated to the crash seventy years ago that brought Michael to Earth. But it’s always been such a small, insignificant detail that Alex has never had a problem pushing it to the back of his mind.

They’re interrupted by the ring of a cell phone, and Alex watches as Michael rolls his eyes while retrieving the offending piece of technology from his pocket, glaring daggers at the Caller ID before answering, not letting go of Alex’s hand in the process.

“Isobel.”

Alex starts to laugh, until his own phone buzzes in his pocket. He drops Michael’s hand, and finds it’s Kyle, most likely returning the voicemail he’d left earlier - and well, Alex knows this is going to be a _very_ interesting conversation now.

“Thanks for calling me back, Kyle,” Alex answers, skipping the niceties, because he knows Kyle won’t care.

“I was assisting a surgery - everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Alex watches as Michael walks around the room, unable to stand still, his free hand waving around as he speaks to Isobel. Alex can tell Michael is frustrated - can read it in the way he's pacing, how he runs his fingers through his curls - knows it’s most likely caused by Isobel demanding she be able to throw some sort of elegant party for them after finding out about the courthouse marriage from Noah. “I was gonna ask a favor, but turns out, we didn’t need you.”

“We?” Kyle asks, and Alex can’t help but smile how easily Kyle catches his choice in words.

“Was gonna ask you to be a witness.”

Kyle is silent on the other end for too long, and Alex wonders if the call has disconnected, pulling the phone back from his ear and staring at the screen - nope, the call is still active.

“A witness like-” There’s a pause, and Alex starts to walk toward Michael, who looks ready to just hang up on Isobel. “Wait, did you get _married_? Dude! I thought we were friends!”

“It wasn’t like we planned anything, Kyle. We just… decided.”

"Decided? You, Alex Manes, who I distinctly remember once upon time wouldn't have a _conversation_ with someone unless he had all facts - you just decided, on a whim, to get _married_."

Alex knows Kyle has a point. But he's not the same kid he was at seventeen, and he's not that some person he was in those months following his return to Roswell. These days, he's somewhere in between, but it feels good to be reminded how far along he's come.

“Who ended up being your witnesses then?”

“Jenna and Noah.”

_Then_ Kyle hangs up, and Alex doesn’t even blame him, sliding his phone back into his pocket and approaching Michael. He raises his eyebrows at his _husband_ , who hands over the phone, and Alex can hear Isobel’s voice going a million miles a minute before he’s even placed the phone near his ear. She’s talking about putting together a reception, some sort of dinner party to celebrate them, for the people that weren’t invited, and Alex can already tell she’s getting ahead of herself and planning something akin to her own wedding reception - not something he or Michael actually want.

“Isobel?” Finally, at the sound of a voice that isn’t Michael’s, she pauses. Alex glances over at Michael, who’s watching him with a ridiculously mischievous grin that gives Alex _ideas_. “Call Liz, ask if whatever you’re planning can happen at the Crashdown. And if you invite more than two dozen people, we’re not showing up.”

Alex hangs up the call.

“Can we get out of here? I think I’ve had enough of this particular brand of nostalgia.”

Michael smiles at him, takes the phone as Alex holds it out to him and pocketing it before taking Alex’s hand. 

He doesn’t ask where they’re going. There’s something about letting Michael surprise him that warms something deep within Alex, makes him want to travel back in time to when he was seventeen and thought he’d never have _this_ . Back to so many nights in his twenties, stationed overseas and wondering if there was anyone who would mourn him if he did die. Coming back to Roswell after losing his leg, and hoping that maybe, _finally_ , they can get this right.

Alex can’t help but stare at the ring on his finger, wondering what the story is behind it, how long Michael has had it. 

They end up at the lookout outside of town near Foster Homestead. Alex remembers once upon a time, taping a notice to the door of the Airstream, not knowing that the one person in the world that meant _home_ was about to spin him around and yell at him about private property.

What a moment that had been, he thinks.

“So why here?”

They’re settled on the bed, a blanket spread out underneath them, Michael leaning against one side, his gaze focused on Alex. It’s quiet, and for a moment it feels like they’re the only two people on the planet. Getting lost in Michael’s eyes has always been as easy as breathing, because Michael has always - even through the roughest patches - looked back at Alex like he’s something precious, something beautiful, something to be loved and worshipped.

For a long time, Alex believed he wasn’t worthy of that kind of devotion.

Sometimes he still has to push down those seeds of self-doubt, reaches out for Michael to remind himself that his father was wrong, that voice telling him he was _weak_ and _perverted_ doesn't matter - not any more, and never again.

"This was the first place I made _mine_ . Being separated from Max and Isobel, being bounced around in the system - this planet wasn't _home_. But someone out there must have loved me, to put me in that pod, to see me protected. So I kept coming here, watching the stars, hoping maybe - maybe they’d come back for me."

Alex lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. Michael has told him bits and pieces of his time in the system, about how Max and Isobel were the only family he ever knew. But this is something new, and Alex's heart _aches_ for the childhood that was ripped away from Michael.

Alex lets Michael take his hand, his left hand, where the silver ring graces his ring finger,  and watches as Michael runs his own fingers over the metal, like he’s thinking and remembering the details of it. It’s got enough imperfections that Alex knows it’s not store bought, but there’s something in Michael’s eyes as he traces his fingers over it that Alex knows, understands, there’s a story there.

He waits.

“It was during your second deployment, after that fight we’d had because I thought you were still just-” Michael pauses, shaking his head. Alex knows though, he understands. “But I still wanted - _fuck_ \- I wanted to believe that one day, we’d get it right. I wanted to be your forever, Alex. So I got drunk, because I didn’t know how else to drown out the noise.”

Alex remembers their fight. Doesn’t want to think it, but does. More hurtful words said, things both of them wished they could take back.

But it doesn’t help dwelling on the past now. Not when they’re here, together.

_Married_.

“It’s beautiful,” Alex says instead, looking up, leaning forward and pressing their lips together quickly before pulling away again. 

“Put it in a drawer and forgot about it. Or well, lied to myself about forgetting. The acetone and alcohol helped.”

“You thought we’d never-”

“No. Not when I made it.”

Alex lets out a deep breath at that, at the idea that Michael had been so affected by his words, by his actions, that he’d made an actual wedding ring in the junkyard. That even though they’d hurt each other, said things they did mean (because wasn’t that always the way with them once upon a time), Michael still wanted him. That he held out hope that one day, they’d work it out.

“After Caulfield, after my mom-” Michael pauses, and Alex can tell by the look on his face that he’s remembering that time. The emotions, the feelings - it’s a lot, those memories, and sometimes it feels like the two of them are playing a game of who can repress their emotions better - terrible outcomes and consequences be damned. “I almost threw it into the firepit one night. You were always this _light_ , this beacon of hope - reminding me that maybe - maybe it wasn’t all terrible shit. That maybe this place, _this planet_ , could be home.”

It’s too much, sometimes, the things Michael says. Alex leans forward, reaching up and taking Michael’s face in his hands, letting his fingers wrap around the curls at the base of his neck, and tries to not look away from Michael’s gaze as he closes the remaining distance between them, pressing their lips together. Soft at first, gentle kisses to tell Michael what he needs to say, how he needs to reply to the truths that Michael has just laid out for him.

“I don’t know if I believe in destiny, but I’ve always wondered if it’s some kind of fate that we came out of the pods when we did. That I got to meet you when I did.” Their foreheads are pressed together, and this feels like one of those moments that Alex hates any space between them. Where he struggles to tie their connection, their feelings for each other, into something tangible that he can rationalize.

It takes Alex a moment before it clicks.

"Those are some great wedding vows, Guerin."

They’re interrupted, _again_ , by a ringing cell phone, and Alex wonders if one day Michael is just going to smash the offending piece of technology into pieces. Somehow, Isobel has both the best and the worst timing, though she still doesn’t hold a candle to Max’s uncanny ability to know when he shouldn’t interrupt and yet still does.

Michael puts it on speakerphone after glancing at the caller ID.

“Isobel.”

“I talked to Liz. And Maria. You’re both assholes, but I expect to see you both at the Wild Pony in thirty minutes.”

Alex frowns, and glances over at Michael, who’s shaking his head.

“I distinctly remember saying the Crashdown, Evans.”

Alex can feel her glaring at him, even through the phone.

“Booze and better music, Manes. Milkshakes are not for any kind of wedding reception.”

“Technically we didn’t-”

The call ends before Michael can finish, and Alex has to stifle a laugh as Michael pretends to be shocked and offended. Neither of them make any attempt to move right away, Alex shifting so he’s leaning against the side of the truck, pressed into Michael’s side, their fingers still intertwined. 

Alex stopped fighting the connection between them years ago. He’s never been able to explain the pull toward Michael, even if he doesn’t believe in destiny or soul mates. But since he was seventeen and learned what it felt like to have Michael’s hands on him, what Michael’s lips tasted like, what it felt like to push his fingers through those golden brown ringlets, Alex hasn’t been able to look away, as if the universe decided that Michael Guerin was it for Alex Manes - this all-consuming, unexplainable, _cosmic_ connection that had kept him awake for so many nights wondering how it was possible to feel so much for one person.

It’s the one thing that has always worried Alex. That one day, he’ll slip up, and someone will use it against them. Will know how important Michael is to him, that Michael is that one weakness Alex has - that there isn’t a thing Alex wouldn’t do to protect Michael.

He hopes he never has to find out either.

There are too many cars outside the Wild Pony, and Alex lets out a deep sigh, because this is definitely what they didn’t want. Getting married, _eloping_ , was meant to avoid crap like this. He doesn’t want people congratulating them, he doesn’t want to have to show off the ring he’s wearing, or even listen to people ask about it. He doesn’t want to sit and make small talk - he wants to take Michael back to the cabin. He wants to strip Michael out of the clothes he’s wearing and press him in the sheets of their bed. He wants-

“We can leave.”

Michael’s voice pulls Alex out of his thoughts, and he glances over at him. There’s a sly, slightly mischievous smile on Michael’s face, like he’s thinking the same thing Alex is, that this is their day, they should be spending it how they want - not giving into Isobel’s need to plan a party neither of them want, but she thinks they need.

“No,” Alex replies, resigned. “If Isobel went through the trouble, we should at least go in.”

“Thirty minutes.”

Alex smiles at Michael, raising his eyebrows, asking the silent question.

“ _Fuck_ , Alex. _Yes._ ”

He laughs out loud at how exasperated Michael sounds, before getting out of the truck. Inside, Alex almost immediately spots Liz, Max, Maria, Kyle, Jenna, Isobel, and Noah sitting around a table in the middle of the bar. The table is covered in various plates of food, all of them working their way through varying types of alcohol.

“Finally!”

Maria is the first one to throw her arms around Alex, nearly knocking him off balance in surprise. When she pulls back, Alex lets the distaste for the party fall away, because he hasn’t seen her smile in quite some time - maybe this party is also a distraction for her. He’s stood by her, watching for months as Mimi slowly slips away, her memories fading away. More than once he’s held her as she cried because her mother didn’t recognize her, lost in another year, another time. 

But there’s a lightness to Maria also, a certain happiness he hadn’t seen before. She's mentioned she was seeing someone, but hadn't indicated it was anything more than casual. This look on her, this lightness, makes Alex believe she's trying to not get her hopes up too much.

"What?" She asks, which means she's noticed him picking up on her.

"You just look _happy_." 

Maria rolls her eyes and laughs, and Alex knows he's right. Michael takes that as his cue to press a quick kiss to Alex’s cheek, before making his way over toward his siblings. Alex makes a note to go save him from that interrogation in a couple minutes before turning back to Maria, who’s absolutely beaming from watching them.

But Alex isn’t letting her avoid talking about whatever has her smiling as well.

"Oh come on Maria," Alex replies, knocking his shoulder into hers. "Who is it?"

"Fuck,” Maria exclaims under her breath, turning toward the table with their friends and nodding her head in a silent exchange with-

“Don’t look so surprised, Manes,” Jenna says, smiling as she stands up to join them. 

Alex smiles, because Jenna is witty and sarcastic, and has one of the best _take no shit_ attitudes outside of his own. No doubt, the two of them together are a force to be reckoned with.

"I'm not!" Alex leans in and gives Maria another hug. "I'm happy for you."

"You should be." He pauses for a moment, looking over at their group of friends. "Does everyone else know?"

Maria levels him with a _look_.

"Liz knows. Which means Max knows. And I'm guessing that-"

"I'll tell Michael?" Alex finishes, eyebrows raised.

"See? Everyone knows."

With one more hug for each of them, Alex excuses himself and makes his way toward Michael, who looks like he's getting some sort of third degree from Max and Isobel. Liz, to her credit, is trying to reel Max in, reminding him how they too want something small and intimate.

"It's not the same, Liz! At least we'd _invite them!_ "

Alex bites his lip to keep from intervening as he slips his hand into Michael's for reassurance, for comfort. He's not sure how much Michael needs it, but he knows it's always _wanted_.

"It wasn't like we planned it - it just happened."

"You just woke up this morning and decided you wanted today to be the day you marry Alex?"

Michael shrugs, taking a swig from the beer in his other hand. Alex knows that's not the whole truth, but Max doesn't need to know that.

"I would have planned an actual wedding for you!" 

"Iz, neither of us wanted that."

Isobel levels Michael with a look, one that says she doesn't believe him.

"Well, obviously it wouldn't have been something like mine and Noah's - I know you better than that."

Out of the corner of his eye, Alex watches Kyle join the group. It's only then that he notices Kyle is in scrubs. He makes eye contact with Kyle, and raises his eyebrows, glancing down at the outfit.

"Yeah yeah, I know. But I have to get back to the hospital - just wanted to stop over and congratulate you." Kyle says, pulling Alex into a quick hug.

As Kyle heads out, Alex glances at his watch and leans in toward Michael, pressing a kiss to his cheek and shifting so his lips are next to Michael's ear. 

"Let's go home."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr and say hi!](http://jumbled-nonsense.tumblr.com)


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